


Giving You The Best

by theunsweetenedtruth



Series: The Adored One [2]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 06:57:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16236536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theunsweetenedtruth/pseuds/theunsweetenedtruth
Summary: Back story for The Adored One





	Giving You The Best

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s a little back story and how they met! As always, please comment and like. I really want to know what you guys want to see from their relationship. I have another prewritten part that I'm also posting today. 
> 
> Warning: None
> 
> Word Count: 2503
> 
> Song Recommendation: Giving You the Best That I Got x Anita Baker (My slow jam playlist is getting that WERK for these stories…)

He never expected to take up with a dora. He was a prince first and foremost, but he was also a man, something that was forgotten by basically everyone. But her. Nereyda.

When T'Challa first saw her in the market, it was as if every nerve in his body lit up in response to her. She was gorgeous in an innocently naughty way, and he wanted to both protect her and claim her as his. He watched her in what he could admit was an off-putting way, ignoring W'kabi next to him yammering about rhinos. She was with a friend, who eventually caught his unabashed staring and nudged her. She looked to her friend who gestured to T'Challa and when their eyes met, T'Challa felt a swooping in his stomach. She smiled at him shyly before breaking eye contact and ushering her friend in the opposite direction. Her friend’s loud laughter and over the shoulder wave were the only indication that he had affected her as much as she had affected him. He had to have her, he felt himself aching to find out if her skin was as soft as it looked.

“I know that look on your face, my friend. I’m here to tell you not to bother,” W'kabi’s voice cut through T'Challa’s imagines.

“What look? What are you talking about?” T'Challa feigned disinterest but W'kabi wasn’t buying it.

“I know you, T'Challa. That girl is bad news.”

“Eh! That could be your future queen you are talking about,” T'Challa slung an arm around his friend’s shoulder in jest.

“Aye! Bast forbid! That girl is a dora. The council would hand the throne over to the Jabari before placing a dora as our queen.”

T'Challa was taken aback. Yes, he knew of the dora, had heard of the reason for their origination and the subsequent downfall of the practice. But he didn’t expect to be completely ensnared with just a look. He just wanted a taste….

W'kabi stopped him with a hand against his chest. “I’m serious T'Challa. You are a prince. It would do no good to have the mark of a dora stain your reign before it even begins. Do not let yourself be swayed by a pretty face.”

T'Challa nodded and tried to take his friend’s advice but over the next few days he found himself distracted by his thoughts of her. After some investigation–i.e., getting a reluctant W'kabi to find out–he learned her name was Nereyda, she lived at the house where all the current dora lived, and she was not currently seeing anyone. But T'Challa wanted to see her again. He started off small, sending bouquets of flowers from the palace gardens to the dora house. When they kept getting sent back, he started ordering the delivery people not to accept her returns and make sure Nereyda read the card before they left. In it, T'Challa asked her to call him so that they may set up a time for dinner together. After several weeks of waiting for his kimoyo beads to ring, he started sending other gifts: a white silk robe with flowers on it he saw while attending a conference with his father; a gold necklace with a medallion, Bast embalmed on the front; and a midnight blue, satin nightgown that T'Challa hoped he would get to see her in and maybe take off of her…

Still, the notes accompanying his gifts went unanswered. T'Challa was growing impatient; most women gave in at the first sign of him pursuing them. Even with Nakia– who was almost pushed on him—there was little resistance once he put on the charm. T'Challa would have to do something drastic to get Nereyda’s attention.

He walked up to the door of the dora house and rang the doorbell. There was shuffling from the inside before the door was flung open. Nereyda’s friend–Nina, his “investigation” had uncovered–opened the door.

“Hi, I am looking for–”

“Oh I know who you are looking for,” Nina said, a cheshire grin on her face. “Come in before someone sees you.” She ushered him inside, leading him to a parlor room off of the foyer. T'Challa looked around discreetly. There was a wall of pictures, past dora photographed in with men in positions of power and pictures of those who went on to become Queen of Wakanda. He wondered which category he would fall into, just a powerful John, or did Nereyda have the power to convince him to make her his queen.

“You know I told her that you wouldn’t take no for answer,” Nina interrupted his thoughts.

“I never do when it’s something I want,” T'Challa quipped.

Nina rose an eyebrow at him before exiting the room. T'Challa went to get a closer look at the pictures, wondering if it was anyone he knew, before hear harsh whispers from the hallway.

“Why did you let him in Nina? I told you I didn’t have any plans to see him!”

“Well I don’t see why not! If he wants to date you and give you expensive ass things then I say let his ass spoil you! I know you hate being a dora. This could be your chance to save enough to get out and probably get some bomb dick in the meanwhile.”

T'Challa could hear Nereyda scoff. “You don’t know anything about him, much less about his dick.”

“Sis. He looks like he got a big dick, doesn’t he? Long live the Black Panther eh!”

T'Challa couldn’t hold back a laugh at that. He heard shushing and then Nereyda’s head peeked around the corner. He stood as she walked into the room, looking apprehensive at his presence. T'Challa wondered if it was a mistake to come. She made it clear she wasn’t interested; he wouldn’t be made a fool of.

“My prince, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Her voice was sweet, even as the nerves were painted against her face. She wore a yellow dress, curls free, lips pouty, and once again he was taken aback at her beauty.

“I can assume you received my gifts?” He walked around her, eyeing her. She followed him with her eyes until he was standing behind her and she was unable to look at him. “Is there a reason why I haven’t heard from you?” He came to face her again.

She pursed her lips. “I appreciate your interest, your highness–”

“T'Challa,” he interrupted.

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t think it’s appropriate, your highness–”

“T'Challa. Please I insist.”

Another eye roll. “And I’m safe to assume that you tend to get your way when you insist.”

“Well yes,” he quipped just to annoy her. There was another subsequent eye roll and a scoff. By that point, he wanted to spank the habit out of her.

“Well Prince T'Challa, this is one instance where you won’t be getting your way. I’m sorry that you would sully yourself by stepping foot in here but I’m not interested.”

“May I ask why?” He was curious at the disparaging comments about the dora house, and subsequently of herself.

She met his eyes. “I’ve seen what happens who become dora for the powerful men of Wakanda.” A bitter look crossed her face. “They are a secret that everyone knows about and calls a whore, yet the man is greeted with salutes and honor because he is able to have his cake and eat it too. At the end of the relationship, if the man wasn’t generous, she’s forced to come back here in shame, no way to book clients again after being the long term whore of a powerful man. He goes on to live a happy life while doras come back here to live out their lives alone.” She squared her shoulders and her fiery gaze burned through him. “I have goals. I don’t want to become known as "The Prince’s dora” for the rest of my life.“

T'Challa raked a hand over his mouth. He understood: she wanted to escape the dora house with a better reputation, get married maybe, have children. It’s a life most people expected but the stigma of being a dora made her chances slim. Being "The Prince’s dora” would make those chances impossible.

“I understand. Thank you for giving me the honor of an explanation,” he said sincerely. “But I am not one of those men who would leave you destitute at the end of an arrangement. Even if you don’t become my queen–”

“You want me to become your queen?” The shock was clear on her face.

He grasped her hands in his. “I want the opportunity to get to know you and see where this goes.” He swallows, embarrassed at what he’s about to admit. “You’ve held me capture from the minute our eyes met. If we grow to love each other, I see no reason why you wouldn’t be able to be my queen. But even if you don’t, you won’t want for anything. All I’m asking for is a chance.” T'Challa could see her struggling for words at his confession and the reluctance was still lingering. “I could get on my knees and beg if you’d like,” he joked, doing his best to meet her lowered eyes.

That brought a musical laugh out of her, a full belly one that had her throwing her head back, hands still clasped in his. When she was done laughing, she purses her lips at the puppy dog look her knew he was giving.

“Okay. I’ll give you a chance. One dinner.”

“One dinner,” he agreed. He had one night to pull out all the stops.

* * *

That dinner turned into two, then a sleepover, until Nereyda was moving into the palace. T'Challa ignored the looks and whispers among the staff; there were people who didn’t agree with his choice of a bed partner but it didn’t matter to him. For the first time since Nakia had left to find her place in the world, he was happy. After a long day of sitting in on meetings and training to be king, he had a place to go where he could be himself.

Nereyda was uncomplicated; he was pretty sure she had no leanings toward being queen and for the first six months, she held herself as one who expected the rug to be swept from beneath her feet. T'Challa did his best to reassure her that it wouldn’t happen and he was serious about her, but after a conversation with his father he wasn’t sure.

“And what of this…dora you have sequestered here in the palace?” T'Chaka asked in the middle of a conversation with his son. They were in the king’s office, wrapping up a conversation about the last council meeting. T'Challa was taken aback; this was not the turn he was expecting the conversation to take.

“Nereyda. She is…okay. What do you want to know?” This was an awkward situation. There was little else a man kept a dora for and T'Challa didn’t want to delve into details about his sex life with his baba.

But the sex was more than okay. It was mind blowing. After waiting longer than it was clear Nereyda was used to to have sex, T'Challa surprised her with a trip. Even though he didn’t expect for them to have sex, they did and T'Challa was addicted. Nereyda was sweet like honey, her skin softer than he’d suspected, and she lit a fire in his body. He found himself craving her with a ferocity he hadn’t with any previous lover, just the thought of her getting him half hard and distracted.

But it was more than the sex. His favorite moments were after he returned from a long trip, when they would meet in his rooms and he could tell her all his problems. She’d sit on the couch, his head in her lap and she would listen while stroking his head. It brought him peace to have someone to lean on. T'Challa was also surprised at some of her suggestions to issues he brought before her, and even used them in discussions with his father. Nereyda was turning out to be an asset to his life.

“T'Challa have you heard a word I’ve said?” T'Chaka interrupted his thoughts.

“Ndiyaxolisa, baba. What did you say?”

“That girl…please T'Challa do not lose focus on what the goal is,” T'Chaka warned. “Do not allow your possession of a dora to keep you from doing your duties and please do not get any ideas in your head.”

“What kind of ideas, baba?”

“Like marriage to her. She is not a viable candidate for queen.”

T'Challa disagreed. “How so? She is smart, beautiful, kind almost to a fault–”

“Ach! You are not thinking with your brain in your head!” T'Chaka exclaimed. “You are nothing more than a job to her. The sooner you realize, the better it will be. Once you are finished with her, she will move on to the next powerful man willing to have the prince’s seconds.”

T'Challa swallowed his ire. He didn’t disagree with his father often but T'Chaka didn’t know Nereyda. T'Challa knew he was wrong; Nereyda felt more for him than as just another man she had sex with. She did not have to say it. It was clear in the way she looked at him, the way she touched him and cared for his needs.

But maybe his father was right. It could be a part of her training that helped her to be everything he didn’t know he needed. She could be playing coy for the throne. As much as he wanted to stand firm in his belief of her, T'Chaka’s words had gotten to him.

His father laid a hand on his arm. “I just want you to be wise T'Challa. You can not risk not having the council on your side. A dora as queen is a sure way to ensure they turn against you.”

T'Challa nodded and he felt a negativity that he carried with him the rest of the day.

Later that evening in bed, T'Challa found he couldn’t sleep. His father’s words played over in his mind, a bitterness in his words that T'Challa couldn’t figure out. He rolled over to face his bed mate. Small puffs of air came from Nereyda, her long lashes fluttering as her eyes moved behind her lids. She was in the beginning stages of a nightmare, the quickness of her heartbeat and the tight way she held herself his clue. Soft whimpers pushed through her lips and T'Challa pressed a hand to her cheek. He stroked her smooth skin with his thumb and whispered into her ear as he gathered her into his arms. Nereyda nestled into his chest under his chin, gripping his arm tightly before falling into a calmer sleep.

T'Challa smiled into the darkness and fell asleep. His father was wrong.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Nina is based on my own line sister who is literally the exact same as the character lmao! 
> 
> Translation according to Google: Ndiyaxolisa: I’m sorry


End file.
